


A Heartbeat Covers the Sound of Fireworks

by TaiJanai



Series: Ranboo and Tubbo Comforting Each Other [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Smp, Hurt/Comfort, Other, PTSD, Panic Attacks, its kinda shippy sorry, only the friendship is tagged tho, promptly ignoring canon, ranboo cares very much, they cuddle :), they have socks on its not gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaiJanai/pseuds/TaiJanai
Summary: There is a firework display on the Dream SMP, and that is kind of bad for the President of New L’Manberg.Ranboo notices something wrong, and tries to help.
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Series: Ranboo and Tubbo Comforting Each Other [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094240
Comments: 5
Kudos: 353





	A Heartbeat Covers the Sound of Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> tw: panic attacks (and all they entail), i dunno what to call it but tubbo thinks and sees stuff that isnt real
> 
> -he/they tubbo!  
> -Ranboo is half-enderman, and his extremities and chest dont give off heat, and he can read a person’s aura  
> -Ranboo wears a mask (and you should too!)

———

Colors splashed across the sky. Fireworks, loud and booming. So happy, so _celebratory_.

So loud. So goddamn loud. 

Tubbo heard them through the walls of his obsidian hidey-hole. They were going off probably hundreds of blocks away, but they still vibrated the ground. Fireworks were banned in L’Manberg. 

The president could feel the booming in his ears, in his head, in his chest. _In_ his chest.

The blinking red and blue danced across his vision, rather than the deep purple of the glassy stone around him. 

The problem wasn’t in his breathing, really. They were scared to breathe too heavily. What was concerning was the numbness of his hands and the unstoppable shivering. Tubbo’s fingers grabbed at his clothes stressfully, wanting to feel something that wasn’t obsidian, something that wasn’t that _god-forsaken_ concrete.

If his nails weren’t bitten to the bed, his clothes would have torn. 

It was silent in the room. Nothing hysterical, but if he was seen, he’d look absolutely insane. He twitched and shook violently with a glazed look in his eyes.

He didn’t want comfort. Hell, Tubbo exiled or made an outlaw out of everyone who would comfort him. All Tubbo wanted was for it to stop. 

A whisper in chat zoned them back in. Ranboo had asked where Tubbo was.

He swallowed roughly, and leaned forward in an attempt to stand up. The president responded back simply “L’Manberg,” which was vague enough to give him some time. Everyone else had been at the community house for the firework display, Ranboo probably was too.

Tubbo assumed Ranboo was coming to find him, it's rare that someone asks about someone’s whereabouts and just leaves it at that. Ranboo probably noticed that Tubbo wasn’t there, which would seem odd for someone with a rather high role in the server.

He finally got to his feet, able to distract himself enough to gain some strength in his legs. He tossed an ender pearl through the hole in the roof, now gotten used to it. 

He landed right beside it. The opening was covered with wood planks by a trembling hand.

It was so much louder on the surface. It hurt so much more being on the podium.

The explosions went off in the corner of Tubbo’s vision. A voice screamed in his mind to get away, and he did his best to listen to it.

They stumbled down the stairs, desperate to not lay a foot on that podium for a while. His hand supported him by hanging onto the railing, but terrified him by being completely numb. For a second, he stared. The railing was in his hand, he could see it. Why can’t they feel it?

A particularly loud firework had him hunched over, his hand too weak to hold onto the rail. Tubbo felt sick. The muddy feeling in his chest travelled to the back of his throat. He covered his mouth with his left hand. They needed to get inside, someplace quiet.

One leg stepped tremulously in front of the other, up the mismatched stairs. He got to the final step, and tripped. His legs tried to catch him, shooting him forward, into someone’s chest.

Tubbo clung to them immediately. It wasn’t the same grip as earlier, just enough to help him stay supported. They were much taller than Tubbo, as his head was buried into their chest. _His_ chest, most likely, as it was flat and wearing a suit.

Tubbo’s fingers were able to feel the folds of the jacket of the suit. Their eyes opened, but remained in a squint.

Tall. Suit. Red tie. Cold. 

No names, but a figure blared in Tubbo’s mind. A specific ram-man was all he saw, all he could understand, accompanied by spots of red. 

He pushed it away, hard. The thought, the person they had been clinging to, merged into one thing. Palm-first, no-nonsense, blinded by rage-inducing terror.

Tubbo took a step back, and the other nearly fell backwards on the other set of stairs. 

The first thing Tubbo could focus on was his own hands. They splayed out in front of them defensively. The push hurt his wrists. At least he could feel them for a moment.

Tubbo glanced up, meeting a set of mismatched eyes. The glow of red and green looked down at him full of worried hurt. Of course it’s not Schlatt. 

Ranboo stood opposite to the president, arms out from catching his balance. His mask covered his nose and mouth as usual. He couldn’t tell what the problem was. Maybe he forgot.

The taller boy stared at his friend. Their clothes were rumpled in odd places, their eyes held a glassy sheen. He was terrified for Tubbo, but the other himself didn’t have any problem with his own amount of fear.

Recognizing the lack of a threat, Tubbo’s hands retracted to curl towards his chest. His eyes fell to the ground, then flicked to Ranboo’s tail, curling against his own leg in worry.

Another distant explosion, blue, vibrant, loud, and ground-shaking. Tubbo’s hands splayed around his head, shielding him from the noise. _This is it,_ they thought, _I’ve died again. I’ve been shot._

He would have sworn that he did, too. He felt the pain again, the same as dying before. Right in his chest, stinging in a way that seemed too real to be all in his head. The same panic of what felt like betrayal at the time, the imminent helplessness that held him in one place, frozen. The last firework led him to believe he died for the final time. 

A cool hand on his forehead brought him back to reality. Ranboo was feeling for a fever. Tubbo leaned into the touch, having not realized how hot he felt. 

“C’mon,” The taller whispered, leading them inside his house. Thankfully, there were no more sets of stairs.

Ranboo’s house was loud, but for all the best reasons. There were animals in every corner. It was cozy, and managed to stay cool despite the creatures living in it. Two cats lounging on the bed, one apparently in a chest with it's tail sticking out. A skeleton horse could be seen behind an indoor fence, laying down comfortably in the nether wart. There was a fox lying in a boat, Squeeks, and under further inspection, a bee sat asleep on its head. 

Ranboo closed the doors behind them gently, making as little of a sound as possible. He pulled curtains in front of the windows to block out the flashing colors, but the house still shook when they went off. It wasn’t as bad as before though, for sure.

“Uh, are you… Able to climb?” Ranboo asked, “It’s kind of a mess down here, there’s places to sit upstairs.”

Tubbo nodded and turned to the ladders, taking his time getting up so as to not slip. Ranboo stood watching them for a second to make sure they were able, then scurried around his room to put away the items crowding his inventory. Tubbo could hear him mumbling to himself. 

The president sat on a couch as far away from the fireworks as possible. The seat was comfortable, and Tubbo balled himself up in it. Now that they didn’t feel threatened, a set of tears streamed down their face silently. If he was in his normal mindset, he would think he was being incredibly rude, running into and pushing him, coming into his home and not speaking at all. Maybe he would to someone else. This felt too normal. This place felt “home” to him more than most places on the server. 

The creaking of a ladder indicated Ranboo approaching. Tubbo wiped his face quickly with his sleeve as the other reached the top of the ladder. At home, you shouldn’t have to hide your tears, he thought. Another drop fell, and he let it. 

Ranboo pulled a hanging string, turning on a lightbulb overhead. He towered over the hunched president awkwardly.

“Is it too cold here? I’ve got blankets for guests.”

Tubbo shook his head, not trusting his voice. Another firework went off, causing their eyes to squint shut. The obsidian place had made him too hot in his bunchy suit.

The taller turned to the direction of the display. His tail flicked in disapproval. Tubbo watched one of the cats jump from the bed below to a ledge, then up to the second floor. He didn’t notice Ranboo turning his attention back to him. 

“Can I sit?” He gestured to the open couch next to Tubbo.

Tubbo contemplated, lifting his head out of his arms and eyeing the empty seat. 

“Yeah.”

Ranboo sat himself gently on the couch, close to the other but still giving him room. Tubbo ignored this and promptly unfolded themself onto the taller, throwing their legs over his lap and leaning on where his shoulder meets his chest.

“Oh,” Ranboo said with a surprised chuckle.

Tubbo couldn’t bring himself to match his friendly tone. He shivered and grabbed at his own clothes, still trying to calm his nerves down. Ranboo rubbed the shaking president’s back soothingly. 

The cat from before hopped onto the couch and onto the pair of laps, effectively trapping them. 

“‘Pearl,” Ranboo mumbled as a scold. 

Tubbo lifted a hand to pet the cat weakly.

“”Pearl”?” They questioned.

“Uh. Ender. Ender-Pearl. It’s… That’s its name.”

Another firework. Tubbo’s hand twitched away from the cat, as to not hurt it. Enderpearl reached its head up to continue being pet. 

Ranboo watched them for a few seconds. Tubbo was still shivering, but the taller of the two didn’t want to force his friend into calming exercises.

“How do you feel?”

Tubbo thought. 

He spoke softly, “I'm not… sure.”

“Alright,” Ranboo tilted his head against the other’s, adjusting his question, “ _What_ do you feel, then?”

The president’s hand slowed to a stop, disappointing Enderpearl. 

“Enderpearl,” He began to list, petting the cat again, “C-clothes,” His other hand splayed out on his lap.

“Hand- Your hand.”

They leaned into Ranboo, hunching themself as close as they could. He could hear a steady thump in his chest. 

“Heart...beat.” He mumbled.

Ranboo smiled behind his mask, not noticing his own warming face. Tubbo did though, it's one of the only parts of Ranboo with warm blood. 

After a few seconds of silence, the taller boy asked, “Is this comfortable?”

Tubbo hummed a yes.

Ranboo laughed at the absurdity, but didn’t question it. The other was practically folded in half, sitting on his lap with a cat lying on top. Ranboo was relatively boney, so that area of comfort probably wasn’t the best. If Tubbo said he was comfortable, though, then Ranboo would leave him be.

There was more soft silence. Tubbo’s hand had finally gained feeling again, but it rested beside the cat, now satisfied. He was soothed with the light beating of Ranboo’s heart in his ear, but still could not stop the shaking for whatever reason.

Ranboo made the mistake of thinking that the fireworks display was over, but a rumbling boom shut that idea down. Tubbo flinched once again, disturbing Enderpearl. Their chin tucked down on their chest. He let out a grunt, more in annoyance than anything. His aura became saturated in anger.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ranboo said, “Stuff like that’s gonna make you feel things, and that's okay.”

“You shouldn’t have to comfort me whenever explosions go off,” The president spat.

The other chuckled sweetly, “You’re right. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. But I’m here now to help.”

Tubbo’s face reddened at his disappointment in himself being so apparent. 

“Don’t say… Don’t make my face any redder, I’m already halfway to catchin’ on fire.”

Ranboo responded by lifting a hand to the other’s cheek, effectively cooling it. His hand was soft, but not exactly smooth. it felt like flesh and bone, but the skin felt rough, as if covered in calluses entirely.

It was nice. Tubbo probably could have fallen asleep if not for the spikes in their heart-rate whenever another firework went off. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping whenever it happened. Enderpearl seemed to have gotten used to it.

 _The cat’s less afraid of the noise than I am,_ He thought.

Ranboo, as willing to help as ever, pet his friend’s hair gently. Nothing excessive, no boundaries crossed, just comforting strokes down the back of his head.

Usually Ranboo isn’t too good with silence. At the moment, however, he knew that’s what Tubbo needed, and that’s what he gave them. The early, stark-black morning was quiet in the house whenever there were no explosions. The loudest thing then was the purr of a comfortable cat. 

Ranboo had his eyes closed and continued his petting absentmindedly, but noticed the fireworks actually beginning to slow down. He opened his eyes to find the room lighter than before - the sun must have come up. 

The sunlight didn’t fill the room, but bits of it snuck past the curtains in rings. Ranboo watched as it slowly lightened in color, going from reddish, to orange, to a pastel yellow. 

“Thank you,” Tubbo said at last.

“It’s no problem.”

“Bull,” He shifted, sitting up to look at the other, though not meeting his eyes, “Thank you, honestly.”

Being not the best with compliments, Ranboo deflected it back, “Thank you, too.”

“I’ve done nothing thank-worthy for you,” Tubbo mumbled, tucking his head back into his friend’s scratchy suit.

“No, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Shut up,” They say with no bite, then add, “You’re welcome, ‘n stuff.”

“You too.”

Ranboo pressed a pair of masked lips to the other’s temple. Not even a kiss, exactly, just comfort.

For a while, their auras shone with the comfort of home.


End file.
